


Slow it Down for You

by songofthe52hertzwhale



Category: Dalton Academy Series
Genre: M/M, Yes CP I'm still fixated on those words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21724030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofthe52hertzwhale/pseuds/songofthe52hertzwhale
Summary: "Seat taken?" he asks, and you fall in love.
Relationships: Julian Larson-Armstrong/John Logan Wright III
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Slow it Down for You

_“Seat taken?”_ he asks, and you finally understand what it feels like to have your breath stolen from your lungs. 

You are fourteen years old, and he is beautiful. He doesn’t wait for a response before he sits. You can see in the way he holds himself that he’s unaccustomed to being denied things he wants. You say something to him, and it must be witty because his lips curve upward. 

He recognizes you, pegs you as a political boy before he even hears your name. Usually, the recognition irritates you. But this time you smile back. 

You don’t know what he means to you, not that first day.

Still, you find him intriguing. You’ll keep him around, if he lets you.

  
  
  


“ _Seat taken?_ ” he asks, and you barely glance up from your lunch.

It is, you tell him. You’ve saved it for your boyfriend, a new addition to the life you’ve made yourself here. The boy in question lingers just behind, and he offers a sheepish smile as he slips into the proffered seat. You smile back, lean in to press a soft kiss to a blushing cheek.

Behind you, the other boy moves aside. He takes a chair across the table instead, far from his usual place at your side. You don’t notice the flash of hurt that crosses his face. 

Your attention is focused in the wrong direction.

You smile at a boy with eyes the wrong shade of brown.

  
  
  


_“Seat taken_?” he asks, and words cannot explain how badly you’ve missed his voice.

He looks as beautiful as ever, all dressed up for the occasion. It’s only at a closer glance that you notice the fatigue in his eyes, the slight droop of his shoulders. You rise to your own feet, helping him into the chair, and he sinks down gratefully.

You stare, and you talk, and eventually you convince him to join you for a dance. He’s uncoordinated, unsteady on his feet. But you hold him fast, your arm tight around his waist. You won’t let go, not now that you understand how much you need him in your life.

Things aren’t perfect just yet. 

But now you know how to fix it.

  
  
  


“ _Seat taken_?” he asks, and relief floods through you.

You’ve fought before, of course, but never as a couple. You can see the fear in his eyes, the worry that this means the end of it. You can’t quite understand why the thought frightens him. After all, all he stands to lose here is you. But you stand to lose the sun, with all the light it brings.

You shift to one side, and he slides onto the bench beside you. His fingers graze over the keys, the softest touch of skin against ivory. He doesn’t meet your eyes. It’s like he’s worried about what he’ll see. You offer to teach him a song, and he smiles.

You wonder how you ever lived a day without seeing that smile.

You hope you never have to live another.

  
  
  


_“Seat taken?_ ” he asks, and you barely restrain yourself from rolling your eyes.

His plane ticket clearly spells out that it _is_ , in fact, his seat. But the words have turned into a bit of a running joke for him, and he’s grinning to himself as he steps over your feet to reach his own window seat. You watch as he unfurls a chenille blanket, as he requests an extra pillow.

It’s the first vacation you’ve taken since you finished school, and you’re in desperate need of a break. You have two degrees and a spine tight with stress, and you can’t wait to step foot on the island. It had been his suggestion, and the idea that he might willingly spend several weeks away from work for _you_ sent your heart soaring. You wonder if he knows about the ring tucked into your carry-on luggage.

He must, you think.

You’ve never been as good at keeping secrets as he is.


End file.
